


Trinity

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Background Relationships, Cylons, Dreams vs. Reality, Dreamsharing, Episode: s03e20 Crossroads (2), Gen, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hera has a bunch of mommies. Aunties. Interested parties with unique connected destinies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trinity

They're a _them_ now.

And nobody seems to notice. Well, Sharon notices, but that's because Sharon's part of them. Sharon's keeping secrets from Helo, the old man, everyone, and nobody even cares.

She's keeping secrets -- for another Cylon and the woman who stole her baby.

Talk about strange.

Then again, they are undoubtedly connected. Not just because they're all obsessed with Hera and have, from time to time, defended her life against the forces of evil that seem bound and determined to kill Sharon's daughter.

No, that would be easy. They're more connected than that.

For example, the incident yesterday that stood Sharon's hair on end. Roslin was on one of her tears, demanding extensive information about Cylon genetics from Sharon and Caprica that they didn't know and she wouldn't have understood even if they did. In mid-rant, she'd paused, just for a moment, and Caprica had gotten up and itched a spot in the middle of Roslin's back that she clearly couldn't have reached by herself.

Roslin had actually smiled gratefully before realizing what had just happened. And then the silence filled the room like lead.

"Wait. How did you know it itched?" Roslin had asked in a low voice.

"I just...did," Caprica had replied, shrugging.

Sharon had laughed, but neither Caprica nor Roslin had laughed with her. Roslin's head just sank into her arms and Caprica had started staring at her hand, as if it weren't really hers. Like it was zombie mutant hand.

"This is creepy on so many levels," Sharon announced.

"No, _really_?" Roslin had snapped at Sharon. "You know, I don't think either of us would have noticed without that keen observation, Lieutenant."

"Be nice to her," Caprica said languidly. "It's her daughter we're focused on. I doubt she meant it to come to this."

"Who did?" asked Roslin, head still buried in her arms. Sharon could see her roots growing in from that angle, mostly silver with some mousy brown.

Oh, the scandal: the president had never really been a redhead.

"God, perhaps," Caprica had replied, bringing Sharon back to the point that strange things were going on between them.

"Oh, to frak with the gods," Roslin said suddenly, looking up defiantly. "I'm the one who has to die for them. **I** would like some answers about why I'm sitting here, more comfortable with my enemy than my friends."

"Maybe because...you're a Cylon?" Sharon had heard herself say before she could prevent it. It had been Caprica's turn to laugh, but Sharon was serious.

Because Roslin had never been quite right to Sharon. Something about the woman had always rubbed Sharon wrong. She wasn't human, not like all the other humans Sharon knew. Even the ones she hadn't liked, like Baltar, hadn't been like Roslin.

"Don't even suggest that, please," Roslin had said, lifting her anguished eyes to Sharon's face. "Do you realize how unverifiable a blood test would be, given my interaction with Hera's blood?"

Sharon hadn't, and her heart started pounding at the thought. Fast, hard, and making her dizzy for a moment, until she realized that it wasn't her fear running in her veins. Then she got really dizzy, because her realizing that it was Roslin realizing it caused a complete, immediate withdrawal.

Were they really all that connected? Frak.

"It's not like being connected to other Cylons," Sharon said to Caprica, who'd been looking on in bemusement. "That always felt like harmony. This feels like..."

"An assault," Caprica agreed. "And yet, there are harmonies under the dissonance."

Caprica has this mystic streak that shows up now and then and drives Sharon crazy. But at that moment, Sharon got exactly what Caprica was saying. Even Roslin, red-faced and narrow-eyed, seemed to get it.

It's as simple as what Sharon thinks: they're a them now. Granted, a them saddled with a devious, wary older woman who would no sooner open her heart to a pair of Cylons than light herself on fire or die without a fight, but she doesn't think any of them have a choice.

Because when Helo had asked just before bed, "Anything interesting happen today?" Sharon had answered, "No, just the usual."

Worst of all? Sharon hadn't felt guilty doing it, either.

* * *

When Cottle stuck her with the needle, Laura decided to go somewhere else. It was a trick she'd learned long, long ago, back when she was a very young creature. Mousy, bookish little Laura, completely unremarkable in a pack of noisy cousins, with her bad habit of 'spacing out' -- they'd never thought to ask her what she was doing.

When there were too many people and not enough air, Laura Roslin checked out and wandered away, because the world inside her head was much larger than the one outside it.

Not until the Cylons started wandering through had Laura even considered perhaps that was a bit strange.

Maybe it was a bit strange. Going somewhere else. Sometimes, she even managed to be someone else -- but only once in a while. Laura had never truly hated being herself, though she'd regularly despised the world around her and needed to escape it.

This time, she decided, she needed to go someplace warm. Springtime on Picon, at her first school, the one with the wonderful hill behind it, wooded and green and lovely. The children had already gone home for the day, and Laura had taken their spelling tests or math homework or what-have-you, and wandered into the woods, humming.

Beauty surrounded her, the light filtering through fresh, green leaves, the branches swaying with a stiff breeze that caught Laura's hair and brushed it against her cheek. Had there been strawberries growing in the underbrush? Probably not, but Laura thought it was possible there were a few to forage there.

And there they were.

And now, there was Hera, racing up the hill, seeing the strawberries hidden in the shadows, and shrieking with toddler delight.

"Hera, be careful," Laura called out after her lazily. Nothing could really hurt them here, but good habits were good habits.

"Hera, be careful," Caprica Six replied, catching Laura's arm with a half-smile. "You make extremely vivid projections, Laura. I can almost smell the air."

"Is that what Cylons call them?" Laura asked, not at all surprised. "I don't know if it's the same. I know that I'm not here. I'm in the infirmary, getting chemo and wishing I was dead."

"You sure you're there right now?" Caprica inquired, squeezing Laura's arm. "I have to admit, this isn't quite like a Cylon projection. We can't usually just cross into projections like this. Though if they're all this pretty, no wonder Hera likes you. Your head is a much nicer place than Galactica."

"This isn't my head. This is Picon in the spring," Laura said, looking around fondly. "I taught here just after college, before moving back to Caprica."

Before she could say more, Hera ran up to them, her mouth scarlet with strawberries and her grubby fists sticky with them.

"Yummy!" she told them with a fruit-flecked grin. "Play now?"

"Maybe we can connect because we're all connected to Hera," Laura said suddenly. Because she wasn't prepared to think about any other alternatives, the best of which was that she was a Cylon, and the worst...reminded her that there were darker, scarier woods than this one. Places Laura didn't like visiting. Or even remembering.

"You might be right," Caprica replied, just as glad as Laura to have an excuse to stop thinking about the topic. "What are we playing?"

"Oh, let's see," Laura said, pulling a tissue out of her purse and wiping Hera's face and hands semi-clean. "I seem to remember there's a good place up ahead to play chasey-chasey."

Caprica tilted her head and looked at Laura like she'd sprouted another head.

Cylons. For people who wanted children so badly, they didn't know the first thing about them.

"What's chasey-chasey?" she asked, dry as a martini.

"She'll run. We'll chase, we'll fail. We run, she'll chase, she catches us, and we all laugh and laugh the whole time," Laura said, forcing a smile for the Cylon. "It's more fun than chemotherapy or prison."

As if to agree, Hera seized their hands, tugging with all her might. "Let's PLAY NOW!" she insisted.

"More fun than prison," Caprica repeated, allowing herself to be led. "Sure. Okay. Chasey-chasey."

The sun caught Hera's dress and the grass smelled fresh as they stumbled into the field.

Prison and death had never seemed further away.

* * *

Sevens are the mystics, Threes were the fanatics, Twos are priests. Sixes are doers. That's how she used to break it down in her head, that Sixes _did_ while the other models were too busy praising God and infighting to make the great day come.

Caprica Six is a doer. When everyone was trying to find a way into Colonial defenses and arguing over method, Caprica Six had seduced the highest-ranking man she could find who had a defense clearance. She'd tried for President Adar, of course, but Adar had had a mistress who ran him, and Caprica knew better than to believe a one-night stand with him meant anything.

Caprica does what must be done. When Hera was screaming on the ground next to her dead foster-mother, she'd picked her up and helped get her out of the slaughter. Gaius had stared and Three, of course, had usurped custody. Poor Boomer had even been stuck with the foster-mothering, but Caprica was the one who'd given up her beloved people to join the enemy and save the next generation of God's children.

But this unholy alliance between herself, Athena, and Laura Roslin has even Caprica unsure of what to do.

Her hands, she's always given to God, and God has given them more than their share of blood and work.

Now, she waits for a sign, and stares at her idle, occasionally treacherous hands. Trying to believe in the plan.

"What are we doing?" Sharon asks Caprica, in one of the rare moments when they're allowed to be alone together. "I'm betraying everything I love for someone I hate."

"If you're that worried, tell Adama, get the bitch airlocked, and get your life back," Caprica replies, somewhat bored of Sharon's complaint.

"I can't. Can you?" Sharon asks, a waver in her voice.

"I don't want to," Caprica says. Which is true. Laura Roslin's head is a far more interesting place than her cell, or anywhere in this miserable hodgepodge of a fleet, for that matter. Besides, there's something there, something Caprica is sure is important.

Sharon leans back, sighing out a long, frustrated breath. "My life was starting to make sense. I had made my choice. I was loyal to the people I loved and who loved me."

"So you don't love me?" Caprica asks, meaning to tease. But the question comes out surprisingly serious, enough so that Sharon turns her head.

"I...I don't know. I never thought about it," Sharon admits, blinking rapidly. "I just don't like her."

"You can love someone you don't like," Caprica says with a lazy shrug. "I know. I was madly in love with Gaius Baltar, remember?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sharon says. "I mean, I know we're a we, the three of us, but I don't...I don't think...love is strong word, Caprica."

Caprica knows that. Caprica doesn't want to think she loves either of them, not traitorous, human-loving Sharon who hates thinking about unpleasant things. And sure as frak, she does not want to love Roslin. Especially because Caprica has no idea what Roslin _is_ , just that she's part of God's plan.

She needs a sign about what to do. Does she stay here, does she try to escape, does she off herself and hope her people are trailing, does she betray Roslin and Sharon?

It would be easy to do. Find someone to send a message to Gaius, and bring it all tumbling down. Caprica could bring down this fleet with what she knows, without firing a shot.

"I know," Caprica says. "But we love Hera. And we need each other. And I think love might be the right word."

It's not the most put-together thing Caprica's ever said, but it seems about right. Because there has to be something holding Caprica back from trying to track Gaius down, winning him back, and getting away from her captors.

Love seems possible.

"I wonder what she'll think of all this new-found love," Sharon says with a slightly resigned shrug. "Hera will be happy to know mommy and all her aunties are getting along, at least. You should have heard her yesterday, telling me all about strawberries like there were any in the fleet."

Caprica thinks about Hera, running through the grass, laughing as she chased after them, and suddenly Caprica's breath catches in her throat.

Of course. Her sign from God.


End file.
